Take Me Away
by Alis Clarke
Summary: Voldemort attacks Hogwarts in the dead of night. Harry is unconcious and Ron has left with his limp form. Who's left to protect Hermione now? The person she least expects rushes to her rescue. Second Part up. 2 Years later... Rating for language and
1. Take Me away

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters they belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling without whose books I would have spent many boring days.  
  
Take Me Away  
  
Screams reverberated off the walls, striking chords of fear in every one's heart. Children were crying, their shrill cries scattered as they ran in confusion away from the figures cloaked in black.  
  
They had come in the dark, taking the sleeping school by surprise when they melted from the shadows. Boys in pajamas traded curses with grown men robed in black. Teachers in dressing gowns tried to herd the children to safety, telling the girls in nightgowns to take them away from the school the battleground.  
  
"Hermione, go!" an emerald eyed youth with messy ebony hair ordered between hexes. The fairy-like girl he had ordered only petrified a man terrorizing a first year. She whirled on him, her uncontrollably curly hair bouncing gently with every move she made.  
  
"'Mione go with McGonagall!" a lanky red head grabbed the girl by the arm and tried to propel her out the door and away from danger.  
  
"No, Ron, I won't run! I can help!" she pulled away and petrified another man.  
  
"Don't fight with us, 'Mione!" the slightly shorter boy had made his way over to them. "Go!" his voice was full of authority of someone so young.  
  
"No, Harry! I'm not leaving, I'm fighting! I don't want to regret running away, especially since I know that I can help!" she argued passionately.  
  
"Now is not the time! The real fight is yet to come. Go so you live to help us another day!" Harry seethed at her, his emerald eyes glinting angrily.  
  
"If today is not the real fight then you should be the one running, Harry! You're the important one! We're only here to get you to the end. Let me stay if only so that I can watch your backs!"  
  
"Hermione..." Ron sighed.  
  
"No! I'm not going to fight with you anymore! You're not my enemy! They are!" She stalked off, her spine rigid, and she kicked a fallen Deatheater as she passed. A hand grabbed her ankle and she fell to the floor. Seamus fell behind her with a startled cry.  
  
Hermione looked down at her ankle and the large pale hand still clasping it. She followed the arm up to where the sleeve of a black sweater was pushed up to his elbow and then to where it met the body. Her gaze met a pair of laughing steel colored eyes: Draco Malfoy. Incoherently she scrambled for her wand. When she had it pointed at his face he released her. He pointed at Seamus. "Keep that bushy head down, Granger." he warned her as he stood cautiously favoring one side, the one that she had kicked, and walked off gingerly, his cloak swishing genteelly as he went. Hermione sat confused amid all the destruction.  
  
A strangled sob from Lavender at the door as she set out to run from the premises with a group of about twenty kids brought Hermione back from her stupor. She shook herself visibly before crawling cautiously over to Seamus and finding that he as still alive, although unconscious.  
  
"What happened?" Ron appeared next to her. He crouched down to examine Seamus for himself and placed his hand on her shoulder.  
  
"I don't know. I was on the floor." Hermione's voice was wry. Ron only glanced her way once and didn't question it. "I think whatever it was was meant for me but Mal... I..I tripped and it hit Seamus, he was standing behind me." Ron shot her a questioning look and again did not question her. They moved Seamus to the side of the room where hopefully he wouldn't be trampled on.  
  
Ron stunned another Deatheater advancing on Hermione's back. "'Mione, I'd really feel better if you went with Lavender, Parvati, Susan, Ginny, and the other girls."  
  
Hermione stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek. "I know you would, but I wouldn't, Ron. Thank you for caring so much." The red head blushed to the roots of his hair and raised his hand to touch the spot where her lips had touched his skin. Hermione would have giggled at the fact that Ron still hadn't gotten over his school boy crush on her as she went back into the fray but she remembered the grim reality that she was immersed in a war.  
  
Dumbledore and Voldemort were dueling in the middle of all the commotion. In the dim light Dumbledore looked older and Voldemort looked as sinister as ever. Harry was dueling with a cloaked Deatheater in the corner as other Deatheaters picked off the few brave boys from the school. Neville was bravely holding his own, thanks to the DA meetings fifth year.  
  
Something stuck into Hermione's foot and she looked down belatedly realizing that she had come downstairs to a battle in her pink satin nightgown, her sheer white summer wrapper, and no shoes or slippers. Grumbling slightly she picked out the annoyance, it was a tooth. Her honeyed brown eyes blinked a few times in confusion before she cast her gaze around the room to finally fall on Crabbe and Goyle beating up Ernie MacMillian and Colin Creevey physically because the dunderheads knew that they were outmatched in wit and spell recall. It looked as thought Colin was the one that had lost the tooth, his face was all bloody and bruised. Ernie was doing his best to dodge, only getting the hits in his stomach and arms, but he was quickly growing closer and closer to the wall and would soon run out of room in which to maneuver.  
  
The petite brunette charged over taking Crabbe by surprise when she hexed him. As soon as Crabbe fell Goyle turned on her, his fists swinging wildly. Hermione managed to remove her face from range but got hit pretty hard in the abdomen and one shoulder. She dropped her wand with a slight gasp of pain, her pause setting her up. Goyle's fist was heading straight towards her nose. Her eyes closed and her body tensed in anticipation of the blow but it never came. She opened her eyes to the shock of her life.  
  
Goyle was on the ground, little tentacles sprouting from his face, and Draco Malfoy stood before her his wand pointed at the spot where Goyle had stood just moments previous. The look in those grey eyes was cold and angry as he looked down on his friend. Her jaw dropped slightly, Malfoy had hexed one of his body guards! Shale met honey as their eyes met. He nodded to her curtly and he twirled his wand through his fingers like one of those cowboys from Spaghetti Westerns twirled his guns. She almost smiled at the mental picture she drew of him wearing a ten gallon hat, a black shirt, black chaps, sitting on a black horse blowing the smoke from the barrel of his gun, but she realized with a jolt that she could see him in the role of the dark mysterious hero. Once again he strode away leaving her confused.  
  
"Did he just?" Ernie approached her, shock plainly written on his face. Hermione nodded mutely. "Woah... Never thought I'd live to see the day that Malfoy defended you. No offense or anything, but you guys were always at odds and never seemed to like each other. I thought it'd be a cold day in hell if ever he did that."  
  
Goose bumps erupted on her bare arms remembering the look in his eyes when he had looked at Goyle. He had seemed so much bigger and he was no longer the little boy who had called her a Mudblood. It was frightening to see, it was strangely reminiscent of Dumbledore when he got angry. Her world was turning upside down. Voldemort was not supposed to attack the school. Malfoy was supposed to be fighting against her trying to kill her, not be hexing his friends so that they wouldn=t give the little Mudblood a black eye or broken nose.  
  
She crouched down to pick up her discarded wand and felt the wooden tip of another wand pressed to the back of her head.  
  
"I love your nightgown girly."  
  
"Thanks," Hermione clasped her wand loosely in her hand, hidden from view. "I'd like to keep it on, if you don't mind."  
  
"Why you little bitch!" the man pulled her up by her hair and whirled her around. Under his hood he was not a handsome man. His eyes were small and places closely together, his nose was flat and misshapen as if it had been broken a few times and never fixed properly, his lips were wide and thin and since he was leering at her she could see his crooked yellow teeth. Instinctively she recoiled from the sight. The man growled and crushed her to him, his slimy tongue trying to gain access to her mouth. Little did he know that he was being glared at by three pairs of eyes and had three wands pointed at him. Hermione brought her hands up cupped them and slammed them over his ears, dropping her wand in the process. The Deatheater released a roar of pain and staggered back releasing a very angry witch.  
  
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand with a look of utmost disgust. She reached for her wand as he took his hands from his ears and stared at the blood.  
  
"Petrificus Totalus" Hermione's voice was low, cool, and controlled as the man reached for her. He fell with a thump as she wiped her mouth again and spit on the floor at his feet.  
  
"What did you do?" Ron gaped at the fallen man as he jogged over to her side, leaving his opponent twitching on the floor behind him.  
  
"I was just trying to box his ears," Ron winced, "I think I did it to hard... I may have really hurt him." Now that the adrenaline was draining from her system she was shocked that she had actually, probably, hit someone hard enough to deafen them. She felt a twinge of guilt and felt sorry for him, but not too sorry because he was, after all, trying to force himself on her.  
  
"Remind me not to piss you off within arm's reach," Ron joked glad that she was okay.  
  
Both turned when they heard Harry cry out. Time seemed to slow as they watched the thin boy's body slide down the wall to sit slumped awkwardly on the floor, his head lolling on his shoulders. Ron began to run to his fallen friend and Hermione's gaze latched on to the perpetrator.  
  
Lucius Malfoy had shoved Harry aside after seeing his son surreptitiously hex Avery, who was running towards Hermione's back after she had felled the other Deatheater. But it wasn't only that, after hexing Avery his son had turned around and stunned Jugson while the latter was dueling with Neville Longbottom. He began to stalk his son's back, his wand raising to point at the heart.  
  
"Malfoy!" Hermione's scream rent the air. The tall blonde boy turned to her, his face a carefully constructed mask of indifference. "Get down! Move!" The look he gave her asked 'Are you insane' and he turned back to what he was doing. Hermione ran. She ran as if her life depended on it, in desperation, knowing that she had to save him.  
  
"Ava-" Lucius started the curse that would end his son's life. Hermione hurtled head first into Draco sending both of them sprawling on the stone floor, Hermione letting out a small cry as her hip connected solidly with the ground. MacNair fell behind them with a surprised look on his face. Lucius Malfoy advanced on them, his face covered in thunder clouds.  
  
"What did you think-" Draco sat up looking at Hermione incredulously breaking off when he noticed her frantically searching for a wand. She grabbed the first one she saw. "Hey that's mine!" Malfoy made to grab it from her as she turned and shouted.  
  
"Stupefy!" Lucius fell, his head hitting the ground with a sickening crack.  
  
Malfoy snatched his wand back from her. "What in God's name do you think you are doing?" he angrily turned her to face him.  
  
"You're angry!" Hermione was indignant.  
  
"Yes, I'm angry, Granger! You tackle me and then you use my wand to stun my father! Why wouldn't be angry?"  
  
"I just saved your life you arrogant misogynist prick!" Tears sparkled in her eyes drawn from her outrage at his lack of gratitude for helping him.  
  
"Misogynist?" Malfoy's mouth fell open in gaping astonishment.  
  
"Yes! Misogynist and arrogant and stubborn and angry and violent!"  
  
"Violent? Me? As I recall you're the one that smacked me third year and just tackled me!"  
  
"Because YOUR Father was trying to KILL YOU, you bloody stupid GIT!"  
  
Malfoy closed his eyes for a moment. "What?"  
  
"Your. Father. Was. Trying. To. Kill. You." Hermione spoke each word slowly with a space between each one.  
  
"I'm not a bloody moron, you don't need to say it that way." Malfoy pouted for a second and then, "Why?"  
  
Her honeyed brown eyes blinked. "Why what? I don't know why your father was trying to kill you; you'd have to ask him for that answer." She was still rigid from barely suppressed anger.  
  
"No why did you... What possessed you to... Me?" The power of speech left him creating that helpless query.  
  
Hermione looked down at her hands. "I... I don't know. Maybe for the same reason you knocked me down and hexed Goyle."  
  
"That's not possible." Malfoy spit the words out, looked away, and pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture that Hermione had made many times herself when she had a headache.  
  
"Why not? Why did you?" Malfoy slammed his hand down on the ground with a loud smack making her jump.  
  
"I'm NOT explaining it to YOU! You wouldn't understand!" He stood up, brushing himself off. He turned to say something else, but the nasty words died in his throat as he looked down on her. She was staring at the floor as if it were fascinating, her tiny hands were fisted in the white and pink fabric that clung to her curves so closely, she looked small and fragile and he felt sorry for his venomous words.  
  
He held out his hand to her and she gazed up at him curiously before placing her tiny hand in his bigger one. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise at the jolt of energy that shot through her from his mere touch. He pulled her to her feet and they stood only inches from each other staring into the other's eyes. Malfoy stepped back first only breaking the eye contact to bend down and pick up her wand. He curled her fingers about it and then turned and walked away leaving Hermione more confused than ever.  
  
She watched his black cloak sway with his graceful gate before a scream next to her catapulted her back into the war. She had forgotten that people were fighting and dying all around her. She blushed slightly as she realized that Malfoy had made the rest of the word melt away during their argument, and that it seemed if they were the only people standing there as they gazed into each other's eyes. 'If Harry saw me now' she thought with a small smirk. "Oh God, Harry!" she gasped and whirled around. She ran to Harry's side. He still hadn't woken up.  
  
"I don't know what's wrong with him 'Mione." Ron's voice was panicked as he knelt with Harry's head in his lap.  
  
"He's still breathing and his pulse is strong," Hermione muttered to herself her hands running over Harry's face and neck. "He's got a nice bump on his head though, he'll probably be out for a while. Ron, can you carry him?"  
  
"Of course I can." Ron started to pick Harry up but stopped and turned to the brunette suspiciously. "Why?"  
  
"He's going to be unconscious for a while Ron, he can't stay here he'll be a stationary target and that will get him killed. We have to take him and go."  
  
"You go with him! I'll stay and fight!" The red head hissed angrily.  
  
"I can't carry him you great oaf!" the retort came back effortlessly and quickly, verbal arguments with Ron were never hard and never lasted long.  
  
"Oh..." the light bulb went on in Ron's head and Hermione shook hers in exasperation.  
  
Ron needed both of his hands to hold Harry and maneuver him out the door so Hermione stuck close to them all of her senses searching for any sign of attack. The boys edged out the door awkwardly but when she went to slip out the door and follow them she froze.  
  
The room had gone quiet, too quiet. Her heart plummeted to her toes as she slowly turned. The meaning of Deadly Silence suddenly hit her. Dumbledore had fallen; everyone was staring with disbelieving eyes, even Voldemort.  
  
There were more student casualties than Deatheater because the Deatheaters killed without a second thought or a backward glance. They delighted in causing pain. The students, mere children, could not bring themselves to extinguish a life.  
  
Those children, smart enough to not be murders, were also smart enough to take advantage of the Dark Lord and his follower's astonishment and slip away.  
  
Hermione couldn't move or breathe, her knees were threatening to collapse.  
  
McGonagall was the first adult to move. "Albus!" she cried as she streaked across the hall towards the fallen body of the headmaster. Hermione slid slowly to the floor, unnoticed except by two pairs of grey eyes that saw all of her movements, as her favorite teacher's body joined her beloved headmaster's after being hit by a flash of sickening green light  
  
High cold laughter filled the room as Voldemort's victory finally penetrated his thick skull. "Severus," he crowed beckoning to the dark haired and eyed teacher that was standing off to the side with clenched teeth. Quickly he made his face indifferent and made his way to his master.  
  
"Look, Severus, look well. Dumbledore is dead at last! Do you know what this means?"  
  
"No, master," Snape looked mildly interested.  
  
"It means that I don't need you anymore, Severus."  
  
"Why not, my master?"  
  
"You are a spy," Snape's demeanor didn't change, he stayed stoic. "You were useful letting me know what Dumbledore was up to and for teaching the future generation of my followers. Dumbledore is dead, the school is dead your usefulness is done. Can you deny it Snape?"  
  
"I won't."  
  
"Going Gryffindor on us, Snape, with those word games?" one of the Deatheaters leered at him.  
  
"No. If you would just open your eyes you'd see that Slytherins and Gryffindors are not that different. Both are noble and brave. Slytherins just work in secret while Gryffindors act in the open but both do. It's people like you, Voldemort sorry Tom, that give Slytherins bad names. The students say that there isn't a wizard in Slytherin that hasn't gone bad because the only well known Slytherins are the pure evil ones like you!"  
  
The Deatheaters hissed at Severus's softly spoken declaration.  
  
"Better to use force to get power and be known than be righteous and dead. It is better to be feared than loved."  
  
"Only according to people that have never been loved!"  
  
The Dark Lord seethed in anger. "I think it is time to say good-bye, Snape."  
  
"I have no regrets and will meet my maker with my soul clear."  
  
Voldemort sneered, "Give them my regards in Hades. Avada Kedava."  
  
Snape's thin body fell, the look on his face not surprised or fearful; it was probably the closest look to peaceful that could cross the Potion Professor's face.  
  
Hermione was hauled into the air, her arms trapped at her sides by strong arms. Her mouth was covered by a large hand so she couldn't scream.  
  
"My Lord," Lucius Malfoy's voice filtered into her ears from behind her.  
  
"Ahh, the little mudblood that is the brains behind Harry Potter. Good work catching her, Lucius." Voldemort turned to her with a small smile. "Shall we see how good little Potter does without her?" He raised his wand, placing it right under her chin. "Or should we have a little fun with her first?"  
  
Dread filled her body as Voldemort surveyed all of her, from the top of her untamed hair to her pink painted toe nails.  
  
"NO!" Neville came running back into the hall with a few other boys. They let loose a barage of curses that sent the Deatheaters scrambling. Lucius Malfoy dropped her with a grunt, she hit the ground hard twisting her ankle trying to land on her feet. She cried out softly as she tried to stand, to escape.  
  
The younger platinum haired wizard came hurtling at her. "Come on!" he whispered urgently to her, wrapping his arm about her waist and pulling her up against him. Immediately she wound her arms about his neck as he continued to run from the school. The smell of smoke reached her nostrils as they ran through the doors and down the steps.  
  
"What's going on?" she asked him when he finally stopped in the Forbidden Forest. "Why do I smell smoke?"  
  
"Voldemort set fire to Dumbledore and Hogwarts," his voice was tight as he turned so that they both could see the light from the flames that were engulfing the castle. He let her legs go and they slid down, she didn't let go of his neck because her feet didn't reach the ground and her ankle was throbbing. "You can let go now." he commented dryly.  
  
She let go and fell to the ground, her ankle giving out beneath her, with a small gasp.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me that you were hurt?" he demanded, fire in his eyes as he picked her back up again.  
  
"I didn't know that I couldn't stand on my own." her voice was colored with embarrassment as she hugged his neck again. She peered up into his eyes, darkened by shadows. "Why are you doing this?"  
  
He looked away, hearing voices in the woods and not wanting to look at her. "Don't ask me that, please."  
  
Her honeyed brown eyes surveyed his profile; his high forehead, deeply set eyes, sweeping brows, and aristocratic nose made him look quite mature and she was jolted by the realization. She turned to look in the opposite direction hearing Ron calling her name, one of her arms sliding down and her hand resting against his stomach. Vaguely she heard people calling for Malfoy too.  
  
"I'm going to leave you here, Weasley should be able to find you soon." his voice was devoid of any feeling.  
  
"You're going back to them?" His silence gave her the answer. She turned him to look at her. "You can't go! Your father tried to kill you! Someone was bound to see you saving me! If you go back they'll torture you as a traitor!"  
  
"If I don't go they'll know I am." he lowered his forehead to rest against hers.  
  
"You... You are?" her hand unconsciously fisted in his cloak at his shoulder.  
  
"I never wanted this life. The Dark Arts fascinated me but I never wanted to kill people or hurt them, it was more that I was hungry for the knowledge. My father made me take a place in the Dark Lord's circle, I don't want to be there. I know I'm not the nicest person but I never went out of my way to deliberately hurt anyone."  
  
"Yes you have." Goose bumps rose on her arms as he shot her a questioning look. "Second year when you called me a Mudblood you meant to hurt me."  
  
"Yes, yes I did mean to hurt you then but only because you hurt me."  
  
Hermione was struck dumb at his words. Malfoy let out a cold laugh.  
  
"They might let me off, I they know that I..." he mused to the wind.  
  
"That you... what?"  
  
"Has anyone ever told you that you're nosy?" He grinned at her, the first true grin she had ever seen him make.  
  
"Me?" she squeaked indignantly causing him to chuckle.  
  
"Promise me not to do something so stupid again."  
  
"Stupid?" her voice was shrill.  
  
"Yes hanging around when your precious Potter and your little Weasel aren't there can get you killed. Voldemort knows that you're more of a threat to him than Weasel."  
  
"How is that?"  
  
"You're the brains behind them, Granger. Don't leave yourself open like that again."  
  
"I won't if you don't go back to them."  
  
"I have to go back."  
  
"But they already suspect you!"  
  
"And I said that I could get out of it!"  
  
"What if you can't?"  
  
"Then I'll die knowing that I saved you." there was something in his voice that caused her heart to pang.  
  
"I don't want that!"  
  
Malfoy blinked a few times, "What are you saying?"  
  
"I... I don't know. I don't want anyone to die for me, especially not you. You're different somehow..."  
  
"So you don't think that I'm evil?" his voice was dry.  
  
"I never thought you were evil, every time Harry and Ron suspected you I doubted it."  
  
His eyes regarded her suspiciously. "Why not?"  
  
"I don't know!" Hermione all but wailed in his ear. "I just couldn't believe it of you ever!"  
  
Shale grey eyes narrowed in amusement and darkened from something else as Malfoy the younger watched the brunette witch work herself up over something so inconsequential but that had meant the world to him.  
  
He grabbed her arm and pulled her flush against him. She barely had time to gasp and register what he had done before his mouth swooped down to plunder hers.  
  
She'd never felt anything like it before. Emotions and pleasure flooded her. It felt like she had been struck by lightning there was so much energy coursing through her at the mere meeting of their lips. She had heard it said that people described this feeling as if they were flying or that they had seen fireworks with their eyes closed. She now knew that they had spoken the truth.  
  
He hadn't meant to kiss her and it scared him. He felt the world shift beneath his feet and knew that he had changed his existence forever. It confused him how he had planned to shake some sense into her and ended up trying to incorporate her into himself.  
  
He pulled away and Hermione felt a sharp, surprising, sense of loss and cold as he moved away.  
  
She puffed up like an indignant hen. "What did you think yo-?" he cut her off with a finger pressed softly to her lips.  
  
"Again." his voice was husky as he lifted her up in his arms to ravish her once again.  
  
Her hands found their way into his hair and she found it surprisingly thick and soft. She gave into his plunder with a soft sigh, disarmed by his lack of the urgency that had been there the last time. The first kiss had been all flash and fire and had taken her by surprise; she had been burned by it. The second kiss was slow and sweet and she felt herself melting into him, again caught off guard but this time it was by his uncharacteristic tenderness as he held her and the way he kissed her as if they had a hundred years to stay that way.  
  
Little did she know that Malfoy was as staggered as she. He was taken aback when she had returned his kiss with a mix of seductress and innocence. What confused him more was the sudden thought that they belonged that way forever.  
  
He slowly let her body slide down his and took two steps away after depositing her safely on the ground. Her honeyed eyes were clouded and her lips were pink and full, bruised by his kisses. He felt a flash of pride that he was the one that had brought that dazed and dreamy look to her face.  
  
He traced her lips with his thumb, a strange feeling rising up in him as she leaned toward it. He pulled her full lower lip down as he ran his thumb down towards her chin. "I guess I'll have to come back." he smirked at the blank look on her face and disappeared into the forest, the shadows engulfing him.  
  
I.was waiting all my life to know you  
(all about you)  
And now..I'm staring in your eyes in shea flour  
(all about you)  
And in our minds, it comes so easily  
But theres a feeling comin over me  
I want to show you,  
But theres nowhere we can really be free  
Everybody's watchin'  
Wouldn't it be good if we could be together  
~Fin~  
  
AN: I'm going to be killed for that ending huh? I may be persuaded to write a sequel though. *hint, hint* I just have to decide if people like this enough to bother posting it and if I'll start it after Voldemort has been defeated or not. The song at the end is Take Me Away by Fefe Dobson, and no it is not a song fic I only realized later that the song fit the story. I got the idea for this from a drawing on the Contra Veritas website by Dominique it is the gallery page picture, I absolutely fell in love with it. 


	2. The War is Over

The War is Over

The disclaimer from part one still applies.

_An arrow of freedom  
Is piercing my heart  
Breaking chains of emotion  
Given a moment to pray  
Lost innocence to find its way_

Feelings of sensation  
A cry in the dark  
Hope is on the horizon  
With a reason to stay  
And living for a brand new day

In morning dew,  
a glorious scene came through,  
like war is over now  
I feel I'm coming home again

_  
"The War is Over" Sarah Brightman_

The shell still stood. Everything else about it had died, but the shell still remained. It was a grim reminder of human life to her as she stood silently gazing at it.

A large hand clapped her shoulder but it hardly phased her. She had known he was there; he always was.

"We're lucky it's still here, aren't we 'Mione?" his query wasn't loud but it seemed to be a shout compared to the silence surrounding them.

'No' her mind whispered traitorously pointing out all of the flaws in the plan. In her mind Hogwarts was no longer a school, it was a graveyard. Every creature understood this but man. Birds weren't cheerily chirping; only the keening wail of the magpie could be heard. The centaurs had left the forest. The giant squid rarely, if ever, moved above the water. Event the Whomping Willow seemed to know; but it may have just died as another explanation as to why it didn't hit people, or other things, anymore.

"We don't have to rebuild, we only have to fix it."

Now she turned to the tall redhead flanking her. "But we do, Ron. We do have to rebuild." Her voice was barely more than a whisper that he either did not her or ignored.

"The people are calling for you to be the Minister of Magic." he murmured rubbing her back, trying to ease the tension he sensed in her.

"I'm no politician. I don't speak any language but English and a handful of phrases in French, Spanish, and Bulgarian; most of them not very nice. I can't negotiate properly and I'm too stubborn. I'd make a very bad Minister of Magic. I'm better suited to be a librarian."

Ron chuckled softly. "You're intelligent, well spoken, and you've lived through the war. Actually you fought your way through it. You're skilled and you have no problem giving people orders. You wouldn't lead our people into another war and they know that. They need a strong leader right now and they see you as that."

"I'm not strong! I would give anything, Anything, to just be allowed to give up, to be able to hide myself from everyone. I don't want to pretend that I'm strong anymore! Not when there is nothing left within me to be strong for." She turned back to her silent survey.

"You don't know how strong you are." Ron enveloped her in a hug from behind. "Just remember, we still have each other." He spoke right into her ear, his breath tickling her.

They stood that way for a while; him holding her gently while she stood still as a stature, never returning the embrace, as she contemplated their situation silently.

"Hermione! Ron! It's time." Neville Longbottom hobbled toward them. He had injured his left leg during the war. He had quickly gotten to someone in time to be able to keep his leg, but, it wasn't quickly enough for his leg to be entirely healed. He'd adjusted wonderfully well to it though, he no longer needed his crutch, although it had been a novelty to see him at the battle a crutch in one hand and a wand in the other. Many Deatheaters had been hit with that crutch, probably more than and been killed in the entire war.

"Already?" Ron breathed softly, straightening up. Hermione felt her heart contract painfully. "How'd you know we were here?"

"A good guess. " At Ron's disbelieving look Neville smiled. "Hermione tole me where she was going. I figured that you would follow her, you always do." Ron blushed tomato red and looked to his feet.

"Let's get this over with." Hermione turned to them and spoke, her only acknowlegement that Neville was there and had spoken. There was a thread of pain in her voice.

She apparated to Hogsmeade, the two boys right behind her, although technically she wasn't supposed to for she didn't have her license. It was something that she was made to learn for the war and had grown used to doing. She straightened her spine and walked purposfully to the roped off grassy area. It had been Ginny's idea, her last request, that the fallen be remembered. Ron had recalled at the end, that Ginny had always liked the simplicity of the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington D.C. and he suggested that they do something like it.

That was where they were going, to open the memorial. Hermione was to give the dedication speech since Ron had chickened out.

The gleaming marble stretched before her, six feet tall and over a city block in length. All of the names were on it, every single one of them and that was Hermione's doing. They may have been on the wrong side of the war but they still had families and it was unfair to erase their existence from all records. She even had Voldemort put on it, however it was as Tomas Marvolo Riddle. Everyone deserved to be remembered, the war needed to be remembered, Voldemort _had_ to be remembered; all to prevent future generations from making the same mistakes that led to such tragedy.

People were already there, a huge crowd all solemnly dressed in black watching her approach. What they saw was a pale, thin woman draped in ebony. Her face was set in grim lines of determination even as tears sparkled in her eyes and dark circles belied her fatigue. Her melancholy was felt by all and it only made them like and admire her more.

She waked straight down the aisle that had formed, parting the crowd, at her approach. Nothing blocked her way to the wall she trudged onward with unseeing eyes right up to it; to the name in the middle. She ran her fingers over the deeply engraved letters. A strangled sob escaped from her and she let her forehead rest against the monument and a few tears slipped.

Ron watched her visibly compose herself, his nerves tying his innards into knots, and turn to face the assembly.

"Thank you all for coming here today." her voice was calm and steady, the only indicator of her nervousness was the pale ivory complexion son many shades under her normal tan. "As you well know, I'm here today to dedicated this memorial, but I think that it speaks for itself. The sheer volume of names engraved upon it tells more than I possibly ever could. These names speak of the horrendous battles that we have fought through. This wall and these names will stand here forever giving testimony that they lived, and as a reminder of one of the most tragic periods in our history. Hopefully generations to follow will come and see these names, remember the Great War, and learn from our mistakes.

"This is what my friend wanted. With her last breath Virginia Weasley, Ginny, asked me to remember everyone and tell their story. All I can do at this moment is to help everyone remember. It is too painful for me to look back just yet." One of her hands fisted over her heart. "We should never forget what they fought for and why they died. It is all we can do for them, remember and prevent it from happening again. Ginny did not want it to reoccur, that is why she asked for this memorial and why it was given to you. The wall is now open for visitors and I dedicate it to the hope for the future that these valiant souls fought for, the future that we have been entrusted with. Thank you." Her head fell as she stepped back. Ron could see her slight frame shaking from head to toe.

The redhead stood up in from of the politely clapping crowd, most had tears in their eyes. He waited for them to become quiet once again.

"That was a wonderful dedication. Now if you will all follow us we have a surprise for you." he turned to the still shaking girl and held out his hand. She just stared at it. "Hermione?" he prompted and she cautiously put her hand in his.

Ron had the fleeting impression that her hand was cold as ice before he moved it to the crook of his arm and strolled off with her in tow. They walked down the main avenue and right on in to the graveyard. Hermione's breath hitched and caught in her throat the second she realized where they were going.

On the top of the grassy knoll were two graves. This graveyard had been picked for its simplicity; Hermione liked that the stones were plat to the ground and that it looked like a field until closer inspection revealed it as the final resting place of so many. The closer they drew to the top of the hill the more she felt like a prisoner being led to execution. Ron was marching her towards the one thing she didn't want to face yet, the one thing she had not yet accepted.

She tried to pull away but Ron only put his other hand on top of hers and held it fast.

"This is a surprise for you to, 'Mione." he told her confidentially. "The public wanted it but they didn't know that we were actually going to do it; and you had no clue either." His voice wasn't cheery but she could tell that he was looking forward to her reaction to his surprise.

The simplicity and solitary beauty of the final resting place of many beloved friends was marred by a cast iron gate and two large erect marble slabs and the large flame burning between them.

Appalled, Hermione gaped at it. Ron tugged her along with him to stand before the garish memorial that had been created as an almost exact replica of the John F. Kennedy memorial in the U.S.A..

"You, the public asked for it. Here it is." Ron spoke to the silent crowd ogling them. Now let me see if I can persuade Hermione to say a few more words."

He turned to her and whispered, "Go on."

"No."

"It doesn't have to be a speech. Just give your opinion." his voice was slightly heated.

"My_ honest_ opinion?" something sparked in her eyes that he missed.

"Yes, that's all I'm asking for."

With a smile, that Ron would have called a smirk if he did not equate smirk with the name Malfoy, she turned to face the waiting people. The murmurs stopped.

"I have been asked to give you my _honest_ opinion and so I shall." She paused a minute and looked around. The crowd waited with baited breath. "I hate it." Everything was still after the vehement pronouncement, then there were a few murmurs within the crowd and the expression on Ron's face was priceless.

"This is no way to remember Harry! He was just a man, human like every one of us! Humans do not live forever, not like this eternally burning flame. How can something that never dies represent someone that did? It would be more fitting to light candles in the windows of every one of your houses, on April the 11th, when you wake up and blow them out at 8:38 p.m.. A candle is much more like a human life. It can be buffered, it can be sheltered, it can be bright or dim, it can flicker or flare up, and it can be extinguished at anytime. Some candles last longer, like some live longer, but they can always be blown out by the wind.

"Harry would not have wanted this. He was a simple person. He did not want the fame and the attention. Didn't anyone understand that? He was famous because a _mad_ wizard _decided_ that Harry was a danger to him and had a spell backfire on him. Remember Harry as the sweet, shy, quidditch loving boy that he was; not for the role of Hero that we pushed on him." Hermione shot a glare at Ron and began to stalk off. Her step faltered when someone started to clap. A feeling shot through her that she hadn't felt in years, the electric tingle from being watched by the eyes of a man long gone. She turned and met a pair of storm colored eyes.

There was not an ounce of smugness in his countenance as he clapped, which surprised her. The rest of the crowd had opened around him as they stared at him in shock. To tell the truth, Hermione was in shock too. She hadn't seen Malfoy since the attack on Hogwarts, a little over two years before. No one had known if he had survived the war, but no one had ever found his body so he had not been put on the wall. No one had known which side he was on either.

He walked towards her, stopping just where she had to look up to still see his face. He had grown. He now stood over six feet while she was still at her miniature, in her opinion, five foot five.

"That speech was much better." Off guard, her eyes narrowed and she surveyed him warily. He had changed. He was not the well kempt snot she had known. Shadows and pain now sat undisguised, or too painful to disguise, in the stormy depths of grey. His face was leaner, and he just seemed tired.

"It wasn't a speech." the urge to argue with anything he said returned to her in full force. His eyes closed and he sighed deeply.

"Yes, I suppose it wasn't." Something was wrong with Malfoy, he'd never have agreed with her-the Mudblood. "Speeches are planned and practiced while all of your words came from your heart." Malfoy brushed an escaped tear from Hermione's cheek. "'Do not stand by my grave and cry. I am not there, I did not die'."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "You know that?"

"Only that bit. It know it from my mother's funeral." the pain in his eyes became palpable.

"It was said at Harry's too." She glared at the redhead again, but he was too busy glowering at the icy platinum-haired man speaking to her. "People have forgotten that he was only human with human faults."

"I did not!" Malfoy squawked indignantly, revealing that somewhere the old Malfoy still remained.

"That 's because the two of you did not get along and were constantly after one another." the need to fight with him was dissipating as they were actually speaking like civilized adults and not children. "He never had a moment's peace in life. He deserves some peace now and _these_ people won't give it to him! He _had_ to be their hero, their scapegoat, their Hope! This stupid flame will have people walking over his grave, always coming to see this stupid memorial! That isn't peace! I would think that after all he did for them, what _he GAVE_ for them, they could at least give him a little peace! They owe him that!" Tears welled up in her eyes.

An uncomfortable look crossed Malfoy's aristocratic features. "Shh... It's done." he tried to comfort her awkwardly.

"That's the problem!" tears spilled over. Ron stepped up and embraced her, glaring at Malfoy all the while. "You let me GO!" Hermione ripped herself away from him and smack him right across the face. "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Her eyes red rimmed, and her nose red she glared at Ron before she flounced away in a huff.

The tips of Ron's ears, already pink, went redder than his hair as his face went dark in anger. It was still to easy to get his temper to boil. He stomped after the distressed little witch, his long legged stride quickly eating up the distance that she had put between them. He caught up to her, grabbed her by the arm, and forcibly turned her to face him. That is grip was painful was clearly written out by the grimace sitting upon her features.

"MY FAULT?" he roared. "MY FAULT? I would have given my life for him! Maybe if YOU had BEEN THERE Harry wouldn't be DEAD! But YOU weren't even in the same ROOM!"

"BECAUSE YOU MADE ME LEAVE!" she screeched back.

"You didn't fight me! Probably left and ran right into Malfoy's waiting arms, you two are such _good_ friends now. Were you _with_ him while Harry was dying?" Ron's temper, and jealously, had gone too far and the insinuation of his words, that venomous barb, hit its mark and Hermione almost crumpled from his vituperative words.

Her hand shot out but Ron was sent sprawling well before her blow could connect. The crowd that had followed them was silent and a very livid Draco Malfoy stood above the downed Weasley.

"Say that again." the pale man taunted quietly. "You make an accusation that involves me, you say it to MY face because that's my name you're defiling as well as her's!"

The gangly, ginger haired wizard levered himself up to stare down his lean, composed challenger.

"Hermione was fucking you while Harry died." Ron all but spit the words into Draco's mask of indifference.

The right hook delivered to Ron's chin had him seeing stars. "How dare you! How dare you say that about her? You're supposed to know her better than anybody, now that Harry's gone, you're supposed to love her, and yet you can still accuse her of that! How can believe that? Even _I _know that she's not that kind of girl, and I don't know her! What you just said was a worse blow than if you had beaten her to within and inch of her life! Any _real_ man would know that, and _real_ men don't hit women."

With an animalistic growl Ron launched himself at Malfoy. They rolled about on the ground, like a couple of dogs, trading punches before Hermione was able to stop them. To accomplish that whe had to enlist the help of a few fen from the crowd to pull them apart.

"What did you think you were doing?" her tone was deadly. Neither male answered as they continued to glare at each other. A black eye was blossoming around Ron's right eye, his jaw was bruised and some blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Malfoy had a bloody nose, that looked like it may be broken, and his mouth was bleeding.

"Ronald, I'm only going to say this once an then I do not want to speak to you again. You have NO idea how wrong you are. Firstly, I have not seen _Draco_" she put emphasis on her use of the other's name, " in over two years and if we had ever had a relationship, which we did not, it would have been none of your business. Secondly I seem to recall breaking your nose fighting to stay in that room. I don't know what you did to the door but I couldn't get back in and I listened to it, to it _all_. You've never been tortured the way I was in those final moment of Harry's life. And, for your information, though it is again none on for business, I _loved_ Harry. I loved you almost as much but now you've ruined that. There is a fine line between love and hate and it's been crossed. Good-bye Ronald."

She turned to Malfoy. "I don't know why you just did what you did, but thank you. It is nice to see that someone other than me has grown up."

To the men holding them: "Let them go. I'm done talking. If they want to fight like cave men they may."

Released from his bonds, Malfoy stood and straightened his clothing. Ron, still angry, was preparing to fight again. Hermione rolled her eyes and was about to leave when Malfoy offered her his arm.

"May I escort you?"

"Why?"

"I wish to speak with you." With a slightly wary look she placed her hand on his arm, the action mostly to piss off Ron, and they strolled off together.

"Where are we going?"

"To my house so I can clean up." Malfoy's step hardly faltered as she tried to slow down.

"To think I thought the war changed you. God! You're still the pompous arrogant little! You weren't even going to ask" Hermione sputtered to a stop when Malfoy grabbed her shoulders and gave her a little shake.

"Must we always argue?" he snapped.

Hemione's eyes wen wide in shock. "I... I... I guess it is just habit." she was silent for a minute. "It is just too damn easy to argue with you, you're a challenge to argue with and I like to win challenges."

"What makes you think you'd win?" Malfoy cried increduously.

"Ah... There we go into another argument. Let's try not to argue okay? It's a challenge we both can win at."

"Okay. Let's start again. I'd like to go back to my house where I can get cleaned up." He gestured to the blood on his clothes and his face with his free hand. "Then I'll ask the cook to make dinner for two and we can talk. You can ask those questions that you're dying to ask." He watched her, looking for approval.

"How did you know that I have questions?" Hermione mused, taking out a handkerchief and wetting it on her tongue. She began to dab at the line of blood running from the corner of his mouth.

"You always have questions." A smirk slid into its customary place only to be wiped away as he quickly sucked in air when she started to try and clean the blood off of his nose. He pulled away, and took her hanky to clean himself off so that she wouldn't hurt him again by accident.

She laughed softly, amused for the first time in months. "I suppose that's true."

Still wiping blood from his face, Malfoy led the way into the Three Broomsicks where they used the fireplace to floo to his manor.

Hermione stepped from the fireplace coughing madly, how she hated to travel by floo, into a huge room dominated by a large desk almost overflowing with papers. A big green leather chair was behind the mahogany desk and matching drapes framed the windows. The walls, a pale green, had paintings and wizard photos hanging on it. The centerpiece of all was one of Narcissa Malfoy.

"It was my Father's office. I haven't had the heart to change it yet." there was something in his voice that made him sound like a small child and she wanted to just take him into her arms and sooth all his worries away. "Come." He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her down the hall into a large blue sitting room.

Seeing her confused expression Malfoy suppressed a laugh. "It was my mother's room. She was so tired of everything being green so she made a blue room. I actually think that there may be a red room somewhere in this big old house, but my father almost had a coronary upon seeing it so it was shut up."

"You loved him." Hermione observed quietly. Malfoy's shoulders fell.

"Can you ever really hate your parents?" he whispered. He seemed so alone in that moment that she actually felt sorry for him. "I know my father wasn't one of the best of men, but he was still my father. And it's not like he cared that I was his son or treated be better because I was, but I still can't stop."

"You don't have to stop."

"But I didn't like him!"

"You don't have to like someone that you love. Love and like are not the same thing."

"What would you know about it?" he turned his anger at his father into hostility directed towards her.

"I had parents too, you know. Not that I'm saying they're on the same level you father was." She quickly changed tactics at his glare. "But I didn't always like my parents. I fought with my mother a lot and we'd get so mad at each other. She always used to say 'Hun, I love you but I really don't like you at points'. I spent most of my life not liking her, but I always loved her."

"Maybe that is because she was a parent to you. My father wasn't really my parent, he was my drill sergeant. I was born and raised to be his heir, to take his place. I'm supposed to be just like him. Why am I telling you this?" he glowered at her.

"Maybe you need to talk about it."

"Not possible. I've never needed to talk about it before."

"Maybe that's because you knew that they wouldn't listen, and that I will."

"It is not acceptable! Talking to you, needing to tell you would be weakness, and weakness will not me tolerated!" Malfoy turned from her, shaken by what he had said. How many times had his father told him that?

"It is not weakness to have someone life your burden. Sometimes talking about it is the only way to move on. It will fester and rot inside of you until it breaks you."

"This discussion is over." Malfoy commanded imperiously.

"Master Draco?"

"What?" he snapped whirling on the house elf. The poor little thing went scurrying back and the expression sitting on her features reminded him of the face that his mother used to make when Lucius had taken out his anger on the servants; polite distaste mingled with a trace of horror because she had to know that after the elf she would be the next one to feel her husband's temper.

"Can Jane get something for Master and his guest?" the question was stated meekly.

Malfoy counted to three and let out a deep breath. "Get something for us to drink."

"What would master prefer?"

"I don't care!" Malfoy stomped out slamming the door behind him.

Hermione turned to the clearly shaken servant. "Some tea would be nice, and maybe your master's favorite snack, please?"

"Yes miss!" the house elf disappeared with a crack.

In the silence all alone Hermione felt awkward. She surveyed the tall windows made of small panes of glass, and the high white ceilings. The wall color was weird blue at the bottom lightening to white where it met the ceiling. The floor was covered in a lush midnight blue carpet. There was a blue sofa and two love seats around a glass coffee table, facing a large fireplace, which she lit. She walked over to one of the windows and looked out across the verdant expanse of lawn. Trees were strategically positioned across it, the family probably had parties in the summer out there. Hermione could almost see it and thought it would be beautiful.

Malfoy came out of the room and saw her standing silhouetted by the window. The sight of Hermione in his house jolted him as it had before. Her hair was longer than he remembered but as frizzy and fly-away as ever. Her face was older, permanent lines etched where she would furrow her brow, and her eyes melancholy. She never really had left him since he had kissed her that night so long ago. No woman had ever effected him in such a way.

"I apologize." the words came out before he knew what he was saying. Hermione spun around quickly, the action frightened, even while her hand flew for a wand and she gasped.

"Do you always sneak up on people?" she accused with a glare.

"Sneak? I never sneak, it's my house. You're just easy to scare."

She turned away again. There was an uncomfortable silence and then the house elf popped back in bearing a tray. Noticing the tension, she quickly left.

"You told my servant what to bring?"

"You said that you wanted something to drink, I just _asked_ her to bring tea and your favorite snack."

"They're only supposed to listen to me."

"They respond well to a little kindness, you know."

"Pfft." he picked up a cookie and chewed on it staring into the fire.

The silence lasted several movements with each of them staring off into space in different directions. Fed up, Hermione headed for the door.

"Where are you going? Malfoy snapped, not looking at her.

"Somewhere where my head won't be bitten off and I won't be ignored." She put her hand on the door knob. Then Malfoy was beside her, his hand holding the door closed.

"Don't."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Fine, leave then." Malfoy said dejectedly as she walked back and flopped down into a chair.

She stood uncertainly for a few moments.

"I wanted to thank you for putting my parent's names on the wall." he said softly.

With a defeated sigh Hermione walked back to stand in front of him. "They deserved to be remembered. They had family, you, they couldn't be erased solely because they were on the wrong side."

"It was noble of you. I bet Weasley didn't want you to do it."

"Oh, he didn't."

"You always get what you want?"

"No."

"I do." he smirked.

"No you don't."

He shot a look at her. "I don't?" One of his eyebrows rose towards his hair line.

"Nope, you wanted me dead. Well, here I am, alive, nothing missing." she showed him all of the fingers on her hands. He mumbled something. "Excuse me?"

"I didn't want you dead." Hermione started at his declaration. "I didn't like you, but you know how children are. They say and think many things that they do not mean. I may have thought that I wanted you dead, but looking back I did not really want you do die." He refused to look at her now.

"Look at me and say that." she challenged him.

"Why?" his face turned to hers, the expression one of disgust.

"It's just that I do not believe people if they are not looking at me. You don't have to look me in the eyes, just face me."

His slate colored eyes locked on to hers. "I did not want you to die." he enunciated slowly.

"Is that why you saved me that night at Hogwarts?"

"I don't know what I was doing that night. I just reacted. I was working on adrenaline.

Hermione's face fell and she turned away. "You told me you were a traitor. Had you been working with Snape?"

"No, I wasn't a traitor until that night; not until I saved you."

"Why? Why did you do it?"

"I watched the Deatheaters picking off students, not caring at all except that they were in their way. You were petrifying and stunning them, only when you had to, when they were going to hurt you. You were checking on the downed students and helping the little ones escape. They were wrong, I finally saw it. I only helped you and protected myself that night. I could not really turn traitor because of my father. After that I only protected myself in battles that I could not avoid, and I didn't kill.

"I was so confused after the battle at Hogwarts. I did not know myself anymore, I still don't. Men can't really change and if I haven't changed am I still like my father? If I am like my father and haven't changed why did I save you?"

"That is something that you'll have to figure out for yourself. I can't tell you, I've known you for all of four hours. But remember, no one can dictate who you are not even your father." She smiled at him gently. "It is a man's decisions not the lessons that he is taught that make him who he is.

"Harry.." she paused slightly. "Harry was a lot like Voldemort." Malfoy's brow headed toward his hair line again in skepticism.

"Sure..." he rolled his eyes.

"He was." Hermione's temper flared. "If you've ever seen a picture of Tom Riddle from school you can see it, but there are other things. Riddle was also a half-blood and an orphan. Riddle called Hogwarts his home because his childhood was bad. Sound familiar?"

"Are you saying that Potter could have become another Dark Lord?"

"If he had made different choices, it is possible. The situations that men are thrust into do shape their character but only through the decisions that they make in those situations. I could have been placed in Ravenclaw, but I asked for Gryffindor. I would not be the person that I am if I had been put in Ravenclaw then.

"I wouldn't have gotten mixed up with Harry and Ron, fighting a mad man. I wouldn't have been sneaking around the school at night, learning extra spells, brewing extremely complicated potions or leaning how to create patronus."

"So basically, you wouldn't be brave."

"I didn't say that."

"Bravery is facing those things."

"No, bravery is seeing what is to come and being afraid but still going and doing what must be done. I would still have fought, it is just in my nature to fight for what I believe in. Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws helped fight the war, it wasn't only Slytherins and Gryffindors. Since when are Gryffindors the only brave ones? I thought that what Snape did was brave, and what you did was brave too."

"I'm not brave."

"You stood up to your father that night. I do not know if you were frightened of him but you had to know what they did to traitors and even knowing that you saved me. In my eyes that was brave."

He moved quickly and Hermione found herself pressed into the plush cushions as his mouth ravaged hers. Taken by surprise, she couldn't stop the torrent of emotions that swamped her and she found herself clutching at him, holding on as if he were her only life line.

When he pulled back both of them were struggling for breath.

"What was that for?" she asked weakly.

"To say thank you."

"For what?" her brain was frazzled.

He grinned at her loss of her train of thought. "For calling me brave." He pushed her hair away from her face, his fingers tracing her cheek.

"Oh." her voice betrayed a little disappointment.

"But this one is to make up for all the times I wished I could have kissed you during those two years." he's breath tickled her face before he claimed her lips again.

It was as if two years had not passed and they were seventeen again to Hermione. All the troubles, the worries, and the burdens she carried slipped away as she fell into the feeling, the delicious feeling, of kissing Draco Malfoy.

Her body went supine in his arms and Draco knew that if he played his cards right he could have all of her and get her out of his system once and for all. She haunted him because she was forbidden and that just made everything all the better. He would get the one thing that he'd always wanted but had been told he couldn't have for various reasons.

He pulled away and she smirked proudly to himself when she made a small noise in protest. He looked at her unfocused eyes and bruised lips and his heart did something funny in his chest.

A frown creased his face as he stood and moved to stand a slight distance away. Why was it her? Why did she affect him the way she did? It wasn't serious, he refused to let it be. He only wanted her because he saw her as a challenge, didn't he?

"Let me guess. You're going to say 'I guess I'll have to come back' and then I won't see you again for another two years." Hermione was straightening her clothing and trying to smooth her hair.

"I'm not stupid enough to walk away again." Draco said seriously. Their eyes met and a silent understanding passed between them. Malfoy walked to the couch, even as she held out her arms for him, picked her up bridal style and carried her into the bedroom.

She was curled up against him with a smile as thoughts swirled through his head.

He wasn't proud of himself now. He'd taken what he wanted but didn't feel that swell fo pride that he normally did after winning a challenge. He didn't feel any differently either. He still wanted her, it wasn't supposed to work that way.

She'd cried out in pain. He'd hurt her. Guilt assaulted him, but he quickly changed it to an emotion that he could handle, anger. He pushed himself out of the bed and began to pull on his pants in a temper, not noticing that Hermione's eyes were open and they were happy although she was curious as to what he was doing.

"Why?" Draco barked, turning on her.

"Why what?" Hermione pulled the covers up to her chin, feeling self conscious.

"Why did you let me do that?" his voice was cold and didn't raise with his temper.

"I thought you wanted..." her voice trailed off as a ball of ice formed in her stomach.

"You thought?" Draco was closing himself off. "Didn't you think that we'd regret this? Aren't you the one that always thinks things through?"

"You regret it?" Hermione's voice was small.

"I'll regret this for the rest of my life." his voice was disgusted.

Hermione felt like crying as she slipped from the bed and began to pull on her clothes.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

Malfoy closed his eyes. "Don't. We need to talk about this."

"What's there to talk about?" she snapped getting angry as well. "You've said it all" Hermione cursed herself as her voice shook.

"Listen. We're both tired and our tempers are thread-bare."

"Obviously."

"Don't do that!" Draco took a step toward her, Hermione flinched back and he stopped abruptly. "I won't touch you, don't worry." he sneered and she huffed. "I can't let you walk away angry. Let's get some sleep and discuss this rationally in the morning."

Hermione sighed and looked out the window.

"Hermione.." Malfoy warned her, his voice raising.

"Fine, we'll talk."

Malfoy nodded his pointy chin and left the room.

"I did not say that we'd talk in the morning, however." She pulled her shirt over her head and finished dressing. She poked her head out the door, looking for any sign of Malfoy. The house was quiet as she snuck back into Lucius Malfoy's study.

Tears stung her eyes as she lit the fire. She grasped the floo powder in her hand, knowing she was too distraught to apparate. She turned to the pictures on the wall. One of Draco quickly caught her eye.

"I hate you, Draco Malfoy." she whispered.

Unbidden a quote from a book popped into her head:

"'I Hate you!'

'You know how that always ends up, right?'

Silence reigned.

'Yeah... Everyone that says that ends up married and living happily ever after'."

"Where's my happy ending?" Hermione choked out as tears cascaded down her cheeks. She flung the floo powder into the fire and disappeared from the Malfoy home, leaving behind only her scent on his pillows.

To be continued...

Author's note:

Well this certainly took a while. I apologize for the long wait. I had some personal issues come up and then my laptop died and had to be sent to California (I go to school in Connecticut). There will be a third part to this, it is not finished yet and I won't promise to get it done soon. Every time I promise about posting quickly I end up forgetting.

If they seem out of character it is because it is two years later and they has been through a war. War changes people, especially those who participate in the fighting as Draco and Hermione did.


End file.
